Promise
by ChelzToddBrooke
Summary: Eliot made Aimee a promise a long time ago, a promise he was sure he broke. What happens when said promise resurfaces?
1. Unexpected Visitor

**A/N This one was done on a dare... the prompt was the break Eliot, to put him in a position where he couldn't save himself...so on that note PLEASE remember this is more about Eliot's struggle than the actually situation, that is why the situation is very vauge and the details are nearly non existant...it turned out to be a lot longer than I expected...Eliot/Aimee**

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Promise Ch1.- Unexpected Visitor

Eliot Spencer fished for his keys in the pocket of his hoodie. He'd gone out for a long run. It wasn't his preferred method of exercise, but he really just wanted to get his blood flowing and his muscles warmed up to start the day. He didn't think that simple task warranted a trip to the gym with the uncertainty he'd even find a sparing partner once he got there. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the door to the place he liked to call home. It wasn't much, but he didn't really spend a whole lot of time there. 90 minutes a night to sleep and the occasional home cooked meal for himself here or there, the rest of the time he was at Nate's working or watching a game, or out on a job. As he pushed the door open, he did his customary visual sweep of the place. When a person had done some of the things Eliot had, they could never be too careful. Once satisfied the apartment was safe, he tossed his keys on the counter and pulled off his fingerless gloves and set them next to the aforementioned keys. One hand reached over his head to grasp a handful of his sweatshirt and tug it from his body, pulling both his t-shirt and wife beater with it. The articles of clothing dropped to the floor as he continued his way across his apartment, intent on a nice warm shower. The ponytail came down next with an unceremonious shake of his head and a quick rake through with both hands. He toed out of his tennis shoes next to the couch, stopping briefly to discard his socks as well. He padded the rest of the way into the master bath in his low slung sweats. He let the water run for a few minutes before removing his last piece of clothing and stepping under the spray. His muscles went lax as the warm water eased their tension. He let his head fall back and his breathing even out. The six minutes Eliot took to shower each day were crucial in his functionality. He took exactly three minutes of that time to actually relax. It was the only time he ever let his guard down, but he never told anyone that. He didn't want anyone to know about the time in which he was the most vulnerable. The remaining three minutes were spent psyching himself up for the day ahead and processing everything going on in his life. He managed to do all of that and get clean. There was something to be said for multitasking.

He stood in his kitchen in only his jeans. His hair was freshly straightened and fell in his face for the third time as he continued to chop a tomato for his lunch. He wiped one hand across his thigh and with a frustrated grunt he brushed his hair back, again. Before the tomato grabbed his attention again, there was a knock at the door. The all too familiar tension crept back into his body and his spine stiffened. He wasn't too keen on visitors, especially those of the unexpected kind. He slipped the knife into his back pocket for easy access if need be. He approached the door as quietly as possible and peered though the peephole. His brow furrowed as he saw a familiar and for the most part non-threatening face on the other side of the door. _Aimee._ It was still up in the air whether the only woman a guy ever loved, and then subsequently ran out on, was threatening. By the look of distress on her face, Eliot decided if anything, something was threatening her, so he cautiously opened the door.


	2. Getting Down to the Problem

**Promise Ch 2- Getting Down To The Problem**

The small strawberry blonde flew into the arms of her former lover. Eliot stumbled backwards slightly as the abrupt weight hit his chest. He gingerly pulled her off of him, intent on getting some sort of explanation as to why Aimee was in Boston, at his apartment instead of Kentucky.

"How did you find me?" he asked gruffly. He didn't like the idea of being found, not by Aimee personally, but just in general.

"You gave me your address, you stubborn ass," Aimee replied almost as tersely. Eliot couldn't fight the hint of a cocky grin that danced across his lips. "And this isn't a social call," she added quickly, her eyes tracing the contours of his bare chest. She used to have those lines memorized to the touch, however they had changed a lot since the time when she unlimited access to him. He was bulkier than she'd ever seen him, and he wore it well. Eliot's eyebrows raised and his electric blue eyes flickered as he watched her eyes jetted across his upper body. He sent her a look that said he didn't believe her and turned back towards the kitchen and his tomato.

"Then why are you here, Aimee?" he asked, pulling the knife from his pocket and running it under the faucet before cutting the rest of the tomato.

"I need your help," she admitted. Eliot's head snapped back up. He did a quick study of her visual cues. She looked flustered and panicked. He set the knife down and came back around the counter to where she was standing.

"What's going on?" he inquired, his voice suddenly full of concern.

"I don't know, people have started following me. I don't know who they are or why they are following me," Aimee explained.

"Why didn't you just go to the police? Why did you come all the way to Boston?" Eliot didn't like the idea of her being followed, but he still wasn't sure what he could do for her besides beat up everyone who was following her.

"I tried that Eliot, they say there is nothing they can do, I don't feel safe," she snapped. "And you promised," she added just above whisper. Those last two quiet words grabbed at Eliot. The promise that ultimately tore them apart brought her back to him.

"I broke that promise," he replied, his voice void of all the emotion that suddenly over took him. He turned his back to her, reassessing the entire situation. He had broken his promise and the last thing he wanted to do was break it again. At that moment it hit him that he was still shirtless, with the current turn of events, that left him feeling exposed and vulnerable, and that was something he needed to remedy. He stalked out of the room to find a shirt.

"Just because you broke it once, doesn't make it null and void," Aimee called after him. Eliot stilled instantly. A beat later he spun around to face her.

"Aimee, if you want my help, just say you want my help. I thought we'd put our past to rest when my team helped your father out," he all but growled.

"Damn it Eliot, I wouldn't have come all the way to Boston if I didn't want your help," Aimee retorted. Eliot narrowed his eyes and let out a sharp breath before continuing on his mission for a shirt.

When Eliot returned from the bedroom he found Aimee sitting anxiously on his kitchen stool.

"Let's go," he urged. Aimee just stared at him, a little disappointed that thermal and plaid now covered his near flawless chest that was just on display to her moments earlier. A body like Eliot Spencer's was hard to forget. "Let's go, now!" he repeated roughly, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door, taking one last glance at the all but forgotten tomato on the counter.

"Where are we going?" Aimee wondered as she was nearly dragged to his Challenger.

"To see Nate, the only thing I can do for you is beat the people up. Nate comes up with the plans," Eliot stated matter of factly, as he opened the door for her and walked around to the other side of the car.

"When did you stop driving a truck?" Aimee asked, very off the wall as she looked around the interior of the Dodge.

"Who says I stopped?" Eliot challenged.

"I just assumed, if you were making payments on this thing, you probably traded in whatever truck you were driving at the time," she shrugged.

"Well darlin', this baby is paid for, and so is my truck," he mentioned with a wink. Aimee rolled her eyes.

"So saving the world pays well?" she was truly curious. She knew where Eliot came from, and what he came from, which was very little. She knew he was a hard worker, but she really had no idea where the income for his current "occupation" was coming from.

"Better than you could ever imagine sweetheart," he grinned, reaching over and squeezing her thigh. Eliot had failed to mention that he had not seen a single cent since his first job with Nate and the team, but that one job alone left him with enough money to live more than comfortably for the rest of his life, especially if he invested appropriately.

The remainder of the drive to Nate's was silent, an odd sort of tension hanging between the far past broken couple.

Nate looked up from his newspaper as he heard the door to his apartment/ Leverage headquarters open. It wasn't uncommon for a member of the team to stop by, but today Nate had thought he had gotten lucky and had what was once his and his alone, all to himself.

"Did you need something Eliot?" he asked as his hitter emerged through the door. Eliot just met him with a level gaze and stepped to the side to reveal his company, Aimee. Nate nodded slowly, still not really understanding what was going on, but was going to take a stab at it anyway.

"Oh, you and Aimee are going to try and work things out? Good for you," He mentioned dismissively, turning back towards his paper.

"Nate," it was only one word, but the slight growl in the delivery of said word commanded all the attention Eliot needed. "Someone is following her and the police won't do anything about it," he provided.

"Do you have any more information than that?" Nate wondered. Eliot turned to look at Aimee. She rattled what few facts she had. Nate's eyes jetted between the man he often depended on to keep his team safe and a woman asking for their help. He swallowed thickly past his regret as he opened his mouth to speak. Eliot was not going to be happy. "Aimee, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure we can help you," he started, but paused as he watched Eliot's fists clench. "Not without more information, anyway," he added, hoping it would help.

"Then let's get some, do some recon," Eliot demanded.

"It's not that simple," Nate mentioned, knowing there was really no point in reasoning with the man, he was too personally involved. Aimee and Eliot may have separated a long time ago, but it was no secret Eliot still held a torch for her. He wasn't about to let anything happen to her. "Look Eliot, if I thought we could help her, I would, but the information is just not there," Nate shrugged. "I will have Hardison look into it though," he tried to offer some sort of consolation. Eliot let out a frustrated growl and shoved his hair out of his face.

"Whatever, man," he spat, marching over to a cabinet where they kept their supplies for jobs.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nate asked, getting up from the couch.

"I'm grabbing a couple coms that way, if something happens at least we'll be in contact," Eliot explained, grabbing two of the small cases and walking back towards the door. "Come on Aimee, let's go," he directed.

"Eliot," Nate called after him. Eliot glanced back at his boss. "No one will be using coms until Monday," he disclosed.

"It will at least help me stay in touch with her," Eliot pointed out with the shrug of one shoulder.


	3. Making Old Times New Again

**Promise Ch 3- Making Old Times New Again**

Once out in the hallway, Eliot trapped Aimee against the wall, one hand was on either side of her head.

"Eliot, what..." Aimee started, clearly flustered by their position.

"What's the plan?" he questioned.

"I, uh, I don't know, maybe I should just go back home, in close proximity to my shot gun," she finished with a nervous laugh.

"You know I hate guns," Eliot objected, his seriousness never faltering.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do here Eliot, you heard Nate, he couldn't help me," Aimee replied, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in his blue orbs nearly took her breath away.

"Where do you feel safe?" he wondered.

"With, uh, I don't know," and her gaze fell from his once more.

"With?" Eliot wasn't going to let that one slip by.

"With you, damn it, why do you think I'm here?" she responded, trying to fight the red creeping into her cheeks. She figured Eliot was enjoying the hell out of her little admission, so it surprised her to be met with his nothing but business glare.

"Then you're staying with me," he decided.

"Eliot…" it was half a warning and half an objection.

"No, you said you feel safe, and this way we both win, you feel safe and I can keep you safe," Eliot said with half a smirk. _That_ was the look Aimee had been expecting.

Eliot could feel them before he actually saw them. The two burly men started at them as they came around the corner, near the car.

"They followed you to Boston?" he whispered into Aimee's ear.

"No, those are different guys," Aimee replied quickly.

"Damn it," he grunted, pushing Aimee out of the way and shoving a hard elbow into the face of one of the guys. The other tried to get him from behind, but Eliot spun too quickly and caught him with a knee to his stomach. Somehow Eliot caught a fist to the face, but quickly returned the favor with a swift uppercut. A few more hits later, he'd neutralized the threat and met Aimee at the car.

"You didn't used to fight like that," she noted.

"It comes with the job," he shrugged, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

"You're eye is going to bruise," she responded as nonchalantly as his last statement.

"Nothing I'm not used to," he mumbled, sliding into the driver's seat.

Eliot pushed Aimee behind him as he checked out his apartment once again. He let her past him as soon as he was done.

"Make yourself at home," he encouraged. "It's not much, but it is comfortable," he said with a soft smile. She gently nodded and ventured further into his space. "I uh, I'm just gonna change out of, uh, this," he stammered, pointing at his blood stained shirt.

Aimee grew increasingly more uncomfortable every moment Eliot did not return to the living room. She felt like he was either avoiding her or she was intruding on his space. After ten agonizingly long minutes, she pushed of the couch and went to find him. The apartment was only so big. Before she officially started her quest, she grabbed one of multiple ice packs out of his freezer. The number of ice packs he had surprised her. However, if he regularly got into fights like the one she witnessed earlier, that didn't seem unreasonable.

The sound of soft music pulled her towards his bedroom. At first she felt a little uneasy about entering a room so personal to him, but when she thought about it, it wasn't the first time she had been in Eliot Spencer's bedroom. The last thing she expected to find was him, once again shirtless, with a guitar nestled in his lap, singing softly. She rested against the doorframe as he finished the song.

"I didn't know you still played," she mused. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. At first they were full of anger, but that quickly dissipated. He was still getting used to having a house guest. He wasn't expecting someone to walk in on his playing.

"Only when I have time," he replied, setting the guitar on the bed next to him.

"You don't have to stop," she stated. He made some noncommittal face. Aimee held out the ice pack. "I bet your eye stings," she whispered. He reached for the pack but moved past it and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her into his lap. The ice pack fell to the floor. Almost impulsively, Aimee's hands threaded through his dark, thick hair. There was only a second of hesitation before their lips crashed together. He locked his arms around her waist and eased them backwards onto the mattress. She ground her hips against his, eliciting a low moan from him. She took the opportunity to slide her tongue into his mouth. He moved to roll them over, her elbow bumping the guitar.

"Oh, sorry," he murmured, pulling away from her and putting the instrument back on its stand in the corner. He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down on her. He ran both of his hands thorough his hair and removed his belt before climbing on top of Aimee. He propped himself up on his left elbow and sent his right hand up under her shirt. She arched against him as his calloused hand traveled up her abdomen. She reached between them and deftly undid the button and fly on his jeans. As he felt the sudden slack in his jeans, he looked down between them, then back up at her. "Damn, you are still the best at that," she praised, breathlessly.

"A girl's gotta take what she wants," Aimee replied, setting an example by wrapping one leg around his waist and grinding against him again.

"Yes ma'am," he smirked, going into kiss her again. It didn't take bout another minute until they were both divested of their clothing and reverting back to old times.

Aimee smiled against Eliot's skin as she ran a hand across his chest. The skin was marred with more scars than she could remember from the last time they were in their current position. It made her half way curious to find out what he'd been up to in the years since he left Kentucky. However, the dark clouds she saw sitting just behind is pretty blue eyes told her it was probably best if she didn't know. She smirked as she thought about the observation she'd just made. Eliot probably didn't even know he was showing that much of himself. Then again, Eliot probably was never around someone who knew him as well as she did, or well used to. She felt him shift underneath her. He softly kissed her forehead.

"Are you hungry?" he rasped, his voice still a little husky in the aftermath of their activities.

"Starving, why are you offering to cook?" she half joked.

"Of course darlin', my mama did raise a gentleman," he grinned. Aimee rolled her eyes. She slid off of him and out of the bed, taking the sheet with her. She glanced back at the bed to see the very naked Eliot Spencer, stretched out in her wake. His mass of hair was scattered about the pillow behind his head and a satisfied, lazy smirk resting on his face.

"Food?" she checked.

"Ok," he retorted with the slight widening of his eyes and a raise of his eyebrows. He stood from the bed and pulled on his jeans. He scooped up the discarded ice pack and walked out of the room.

Eliot arched an eyebrow at the tomato sitting on his counter. His attempt at lunch earlier flooded his memory. He grabbed a Ziploc and slid the tomato into it and set it back in the fridge. He grabbed a few things while he was in there and pulled together an idea for a meal for him and Aimee. He laughed to himself as he realized his day had not gone as planned at all.


	4. Hitting Nerves

**Promise Ch 4 - Hitting Nerves**

After their meal, Eliot was washing the dishes while Aimee was sitting on the counter watching.

"So, Eliot, what is the plan from here on out?" she asked slowly. Eliot looked up from the pot he was washing and stared at her for a moment as if he was trying to figure out what she was talking about. He furrowed his brow and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought. He had almost forgotten the reason she was at his apartment. The danger she was in. _Almost_.

"We need to figure out why you're being followed," he started.

"Ok, where's your computer?" Aimee asked, hopping off the counter.

"My…?" Eliot stared at her blankly at her reference to the technological device.

"Yeah Eliot, ya know, that thing you use to access the internet and type documents," she laughed.

"I know what the hell a computer is Aimee," he growled. "I just don't have one," he added with a shrug. She let out a quick laugh. He had to be joking.

"Seriously El, where is it?" she prodded.

"Aimee, I'm not kidding, I don't have one," he repeated, his tone agitated. "I have no use for one," he mentioned. He neglected to inform her that an internet connection meant nothing but bad news to a man who was wanted in more that a few countries.

"You have got to be the only person I know who doesn't have one, you wouldn't even want to use it to check sports scores?" Aimee still couldn't get past the humor of the situation.

"If I want to do that, I do it at the office, or have Hardison do it," Eliot replied dismissively.

"Then how do you suggest we figure out why I'm being followed?" she chuckled.

"We don't, I just keep you in one piece until the rest of the team comes up with something," his statement only confused Aimee, didn't he just suggest they figure out why she was being followed? "You asked what my plan was, and eventually we need to figure out why you're being followed, so the plan is, I keep you safe and Hardison will dig around until he finds a lead," Eliot clarified.

"So, we have some time to kill before that eventually," Aimee mused as she slid up behind him, where he still stood at the sink. He flinched ever so slightly as her fingers crawled across his ribcage. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. Eliot twisted around and lifted her into his arms. He shook his hair out of his face and smirked at her.

"How do you suggest we kill that time?" his voice was suddenly thick, sending a shiver up Aimee's spine.

After an evening of fooling around and blissfully ignoring the world outside Eliot's bedroom, they lay together, tangled in the sheets. Aimee traced circles across his left hipbone, under the sheets. He winced just enough for her to notice and batted her hand away. A second later, she started up again. Eliot grabbed her fingers, gave them a light squeeze and moved them away again. Finding this somewhat amusing, she tried one more time.

"Aimee, stop it," he warned, moving away, putting his back to her.

"You used to love that," she reminded, running a hand up his spine and across his shoulder.

"Well, I don't anymore," he stated simply, rolling a shoulder to remove her hand. His hip was a little more than tender most days, a reminder of and old injury, a broken pelvis that didn't set quite right. He didn't like her touches reminding him of his minor weakness. "I'm not the same guy I was then," he blurted, effectively killing the warm and fuzzy haze hanging around them, leaving them as nothing more than two past lovers thrown together by fate and taking advantage of circumstance and an old familiar spark. Eliot sighed and pulled the covers up around him. Aimee stared at the back of the man she used to know inside and out. Now, he was little more than a stranger with the same name.

As he noticed the unfamiliar weight against him, Eliot's first reaction was to throw it off. To fight to get free. That was before he was awake enough to process the situation. When he remembered it was Aimee in bed with him he let out a low growl of disapproval. He was uncomfortable with how close they almost got last night. The physical aspect of it all, he loved. Eliot Spencer was a lady's man by definition and had more than a few one-night stands but this was Aimee. He loved Aimee and he'd already hurt her more than she ever deserved. He'd already disappointed her and although he usually had a "devil may care" demeanor, he didn't like hurting innocent people. As he gently moved her off of him, he vowed to keep things platonic until they figured out who was following her and got her back to Kentucky safe and sound. This was just another job.

She wondered what mood she'd find him in. Eliot had always been temperamental so she never knew what to expect. Her eyes widened as they settled on the half dozen gleaming knives laid out on the coffee table. Eliot was relaxed into a corner of the couch, one foot propped up on the edge of the coffee table. He had on jeans and a black wife beater with his hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She assumed that was to keep it out of his face as he gingerly cleaned the hilt of the knife he held between his nimble fingers. She watched him for a moment longer as his intense blue eyes bore into the blade.

"Ask," he urged. Aimee quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Ask?" she repeated.

"You've been watching me clean this knife for the past few minutes, ask about my knife collection," he mentioned knowingly.

"I didn't know you knew I was here," she stated softly.

"In my line of work, being unaware gets you killed," Eliot noted, shifting his position slightly, but still not looking at her. Aimee took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, crossing both her arms and her legs.

"Exactly what do you do, Eliot?" she posed the question that had been on her mind since he showed up in Kentucky to help out her father.

"You know what I do, you've seen the team work," he replied vaguely. Aimee rolled her eyes and stood from the couch.

"Good to know things are back to normal, El," she mentioned flatly as she walked away. Eliot breathed a light laugh, amused with himself for ticking her off. He shrugged a little and continued working on his knives.

An hour or so later, Aimee came flying out of the bedroom, where she'd been holed up all morning. Eliot was making it painfully obvious he wanted to put some space between them, so she obliged his wishes. However, it took about thirteen vague answers to her questions before she decided to give in.


	5. And So It Begins

**Promise Ch 5- And So It Begins**

"Where you running off to, darlin'?" Eliot's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Out," she turned his method of vague answers on him.

"The hell you are, there are people out there after you," he growled, shooting up from the couch.

"What the hell else am I supposed to do? You don't have a TV or a computer and you are just _great _company. I'm bored!" Aimee huffed.

"Then _we_ can go out, you are not going anywhere with out me," Eliot instructed.

"Fine, then let's go," Aimee retorted.

"Let me put a shirt on first," he said, making a face at her and her impatience.

"Hurry, and take your hair out of that damn ponytail, it looks stupid," she commented. He spun on his heels and dramatically pulled the tie from his hair. He shook his head, letting his dark tendrils fall to his shoulders.

"Better?" he grunted.

"Much, now get a shirt," Aimee instructed, pointing towards his bedroom. Eliot narrowed his eyes and set his jaw before walking away. He did not take kindly to being bossed around. As he pulled a blue Henley shirt over his head, he noticed the coms sitting on the nightstand. He opened one of the cases and stuck the device in his ear and returned to the living room with the other. He tossed the small black case at Aimee.

"Put that in," it wasn't a suggestion.

"It's bad enough I have to have you escort me everywhere, do you have to be in my head too?" she groaned.

"Admit it sweetheart, you like having me in your head," he grinned with a wink.

"Smug bastard," Aimee said under her breath as she placed the com in her ear.

"Come on, let's go," he laughed, setting a hand on the small of her back to lead her out the door.

Eliot wasn't exactly sure where to take her. All she said was out, so he decided a walk would do them both some good. He didn't want to take her some where crowded or where he could loose her easily, so any kind of shopping facility or the movies were out. He raked a hand through his windblown hair as they started down the street. There was an awkward silence hanging between them. He'd spent so much of the morning distancing them that any sort of common ground was nearly nonexistent.

"So, the weather's nice today," he started.

"Seriously Eliot, we're going to talk about the weather?" Aimee fired back in disbelief.

"Damn it, Aimee what do you want to talk about?" Eliot returned.

"You could actually answer one of the questions I asked you earlier," she mused. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his whole body went rigid. She didn't think her statement was that serious.

"Love to, but we got company," he announced, taking a stance as upwards of six guys started to swarm around the couple. "Run Aimee," he urged as he stepped in front of her. She just stood stock still. "Run!" this time it was a demand. This time she listened and took off. "Call Nate," he yelled after her as he started in on the guy closest to him.

Aimee ran until she got around a corner and out of sight. She leaned against the brick wall to catch her breath. As she did so, she pulled out her phone and dialed Nate's number.

"Nate, it's Aimee, I think we're in trouble," she said breathlessly, when Nate gruffly answered his phone.

"You think? What's going on, where's Eliot? Does he have a com in?" Nate rattled off questions.

"Yeah, uh, he's got, I think, six guys on him, we were on a walk near his apartment," Aimee tried to give him all the information he needed.

"Hold tight for me, ok?" he replied before setting his phone down and grabbing a com from the cabinet and activating it. "Eliot?" he tried. Aimee bit her lip as she heard Nate's voice over the com. "Aimee, I'm going to hang up the phone," he addressed her.

"O-ok," she stuttered.

"Eliot?" Nate tried again.

"A little busy," Eliot ground out as he tried to punch out one of the guys. Relief flooded Aimee as she heard that familiar raspy tone in her ear.

"Eliot, what's going on? Do you need backup?" Nate asked. All he got in response was groans and grunts from the fight. "Aimee, can you see Eliot?" he wondered. His hitter was a very capable man, and had worked alone for so many years that the current phone conversation he was in was very unusual. This time though, Aimee was involved and Nate knew Eliot wasn't going to take any chances with Aimee's well being, not when he had a team he could lean back on to ensure her safety.

"No, I'm around the corner," Aimee answered.

"Can you try to get eyes on him?" Nate suggested.

"I'll see what I can do," she stated, creeping closer to the corner of the building and peering around the brick. Eliot had made headway. It was now a one on one battle, with an admirable opponent too. Aimee's breath caught in her chest as she watched said opponent plant a firm upper cut to Eliot's jaw, effectively rendering the hitter unconscious. Aimee felt her heart sink as she watched his body fall to the ground in was seemed like slow motion.

"Aimee, what happened?" Nate questioned. "Eliot?" he called when she didn't answer.

"He's un…" was all Aimee got in before something hit her from behind.

"Aimee?" Nate said to what sounded like dead air. The high pitched squeal of feedback informed him that either or both of them lost their com. He cussed under his breath and started to call up the rest of the team. It looked like they were going to have to retrieve their retrieval specialist. This was a first for them; Eliot was the one who saved them. He wasn't the one that needed saving.


	6. Loss Of Control

Aimee slowly opened her eyes, a dull pain radiated from the back of her skull. She reached a hand up to see if she still had her com. She did, much to her surprise.

"Nate," she mumbled as she tried to orient herself. She noticed she was no longer on the street corner; instead she was in some sort of dark, dank room. "Nate," she repeated as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Aimee?" it wasn't Nate, it was Sophie.

"Sophie, I uh," Aimee started.

"Nate filled us in, we think Eliot lost his com, do you know where you are?" Sophie replied.

"I don't know, a basement I think?" Aimee was still trying to piece together the situation.

"Aimee, we're going to need you to be our eyes," Nate finally came over the line. "We're going to get you and Eliot out of this," he assured her.

Eliot couldn't see. There were a lot of other things going on, but most importantly, he couldn't see. There was no larger loss of control for the hitter than the loss of sight. He growled and tried to move his hands to remove whatever was covering his eyes. Unfortunately, his hands were hindered by some kind of restraint. He pulled against them, the material cutting into his skin.

"What the hell do you people want?" he screamed, knowing someone was watching him, he could feel them. "Why are you following Aimee?" he added. No one answered him.

As Aimee talked things over with Nate and the team, the door to the room she was in opened. A man built a lot like Eliot with the exception of being about six inches taller, appeared in the doorway.

"You're coming with me," he said with a sickening grin as he gripped her arm tighter than necessary and hauled her off the floor.

"W-where are we going?" she asked nervously. He didn't answer her; he only tightened his hold on her to drag her out of the room.

"Stay calm, Aimee," Sophie coaxed.

"Just tell us what you see, discretely," Nate jumped in. Aimee tried to steel her resolve for whatever may come next, as they rounded a corner. The hallway opened up to a staircase. The man tugged her up the stairs, she stumbled behind him. At the top of the stairs there was a room that appeared to be similar to an interrogation facility with a viewing room and a holding room. There were two more men staring into the holding room. Through the large window she could see Eliot. A thick black bandana was tied over his eyes and his hands were strapped to the chair he was sitting in with heavy duty leather restraints, like the ones you see on TV or in the movies when someone is put in the electric chair. His chest was heaving and he was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was demanding answers from whomever these people were holding him hostage.

"Eliot," Aimee gasped.

"Aimee, where is he, how is he?" Sophie asked.

"Blind folded, restrained," Aimee said softly.

"He's blind folded!" Sophie's voice rose, causing Aimee and everyone else wearing a com to wince slightly. "Nate, they're going to kill him," she added.

"Kill him? What?" Aimee whispered, on the verge of tears.

"We have no plans to kill him," the man noted. "We are not stupid enough to throw away half a million legal dollars, not to mention what he's worth on the black market," he finished, his evil grin turning Aimee's stomach. For the first time though, she noticed the man's accent. To her it was hard to recognize or discern the man's country of origin.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. There was a bounty out for Eliot? What had he been up to?

"You sure don't know a lot about the man who promised to be there if you ever needed him," the man laughed. Aimee's eyes widened.

"How do you know that?" she squeaked.

"Aimee, he's trying to get under your skin," Nate warned.

"How do you know that?" she screamed, brushing Nate off.

"We have our ways," the man replied vaguely, turning his attention away from Aimee and looking amusingly towards the struggling Eliot.

"Aimee!" Eliot yelled, having heard her voice between screams of his own. "Someone get me the hell out of here!" he continued, straining against the leather cuffs. A flush crept into his neck and what of his cheeks Aimee could see as his voice grew hoarser and his breaths more labored.

"Aimee, you need to listen, and listen good," Nate's voice flowed over Eliot's angry screams. "Eliot is our hitter, and a retrieval specialist," he started.

**Promise Ch 6- Loss Of Control**

"What does that mean?" she whispered as she backed herself against one of the walls in the room.

"He's one of the world's best hand to hand combat fighters and has been trained in several forms of martial arts. He has freed a lot of people and helped a lot of countries, but in the process he pissed a lot of people off. He's wanted in five countries. These people were following you to get to him," Nate tried to explain it to her.

"Nate, that all can wait, Eliot is going to die if they don't take the blindfold off," Sophie reminded.

"They aren't going to kill him," Aimee mentioned.

"No, sweetie, you don't get it. Eliot has to hold back. He literally has to force himself not to kill the people he fights and as long as he has control in the situation, everything is fine. With a blindfold on, he has lost all control. They are playing with fire. When they untie him to inevitably move him again, he will kill everyone within spitting distance," Sophie informed.

"Until then, the loss of control and the rage are going to eat Eliot from the inside out. The stress on his body will either cause him to stroke out or have a heart attack," Hardison spoke up for the first time.

"Now Aimee, you need to tell these guys that they have to remove his blindfold. If they really want him alive, they have to do it, convince them," Nate instructed. Aimee took a deep breath and pushed off of the wall. She put aside any hope of processing all of the information she just been given until things calmed down or this mess was over, whichever came first.


	7. Trust in the Team

**Promise Ch 7 - Trust in the Team**

"You need to take his blindfold off," she stated firmly. All three of the men in the room turned to look at her. "Look at him, he's going to combust," she pointed out, honestly trying not to watch Eliot arch against the chair, fighting and growling. The apparent leader of the men arched an eyebrow. "If you don't give him some sense of control, he will die," Aimee said definitively.

"Go Aimee, show them whose boss!" Parker's voice was all to chipper over the line, causing a slight smile on Aimee's lips.

The three men in the room huddled together, having a conference on whether or not to remove the blindfold.

"We can't take a risk of him dying, his life is far too valuable," one hissed.

"But what if it's just some plan to free him," another objected.

"It's just the blindfold, not the restraints, we're going to let her do it," the boss decided. "Go in, remove the blindfold, but DO NOT touch his restraints, or we will kill you earlier than planned," he addressed Aimee. Aimee nodded and cautiously entered the room with Eliot.

"Eliot," she said firmly, trying to get him to calm down. He continued to thrash. "Eliot," she tried again, reaching out to set a hand on his knee. On reflex, he kicked his leg out, connecting with her shin. "Ow, shit El," she cussed.

"Aimee?" Eliot croaked.

"Yeah, it's me," she said softly. She carefully climbed into his lap. She reached up and undid the blindfold, revealing his panicked blue eyes.

"Are you ok? Who are these people? What do they want? Did you get hold of Nate?" he rambled, each word showing evidence of his stressed vocal chords.

"Shh, calm down," she soothed, setting on one hand on either of his cheeks.

"They haven't hurt you have they? How did they get you?" his questions didn't cease.

"El, hush," she tried again, bringing one hand down to his chest. She felt his heart hammering against the thick wall of muscle. He opened his mouth to speak again. This time she shut him up the only way she knew how. She met his lips with her own, her tongue invading his mouth. After a moment she pulled away.

"Aimee, please," he started to beg. She furrowed her brow at him. "Please take the restraints off," he finished.

"Eliot, I can't," Aimee replied grimly.

"Please, can't you just, please Aimee," he continued, his eyes growing desperate. "Please just take them off, I can't sit here like this, please," he added.

"Nate listen to him, Eliot has never sounded that desperate, we have to get him out of there," Sophie declared.

"I know, but we have to figure out where they are first," Nate replied. Aimee shook her head as if she could shake away their voices.

"They said they'd kill me sooner if I even touched them," she admitted to Eliot. Under her hand, she felt his heart rate that had finally slowed some pick up again. She watched his jaw clench.

"They're going to kill you?" he rasped.

"Yeah Eliot, eventually," Aimee said with a solemn nod.

"Get out of my lap," Eliot demanded roughly as his whole body went rigid again. Aimee scrambled off of him just before he flailed against his restraints once more with a tortured groan.

"Eliot, you need to calm down," she repeated.

"I can't let them kill you, but with these damn restraints on, I can't save you," he spat.

"Aimee, discretely take your ear piece out and give it to Eliot for a second," Nate guided. Aimee did as she was told. "Eliot," Nate started.

"Nate, get us the hell out of here, come up with a plan, please, I have to save her," Eliot begged.

"You need to trust me, you need to trust the team," Nate replied. "We're going to get you out of this," he added.

"How? Do you even know where we are or who these people are?" Eliot responded in a frustrated manner. Aimee glanced nervously at the door and then at the large two way mirror. She was surprised none of the men had come to pull her out yet.

"Eliot, do they have your cell phone?" Hardison's voice interrupted.

"Damn it Hardison! I'm strapped to a chair, of course they have my cell phone," Eliot replied gruffly.

" Well, I don't know! I figured you were the type of guy who might not always carry his phone, ya know if he's not working or something, forgive a guy for asking," Hardison mumbled quickly, receiving yet another growl from Eliot.

"Hardison, this is not the time," Nate warned.

"Did you take that chip out I put in last week?" Hardison got back to business.

"I can barely turn the thing on, I sure as hell wouldn't take it apart," Eliot retorted.

"Well, then a brother can save the day! I can track the GPS on your phone..." he went off in geek speak.

"Hardison!" everyone said in unison.

"Yeah sure, yell at the guy whose going to save the day," the hacker replied, sounding hurt.

"Eliot, tell Aimee to take the com back, but before you do, you need to promise me something," Nate came back over the line.

"What, anything, I promise, just get us the hell out of here, at least get Aimee out," Eliot jumped back into panic mode.

"First you need to stay calm. Second, when you get your restraints off, don't kill anyone," Nate laid out.

"I can't promise that," Eliot objected.

"Aimee's life may depend on it," Nate added.

"And you promised her," Parker chimed in, Eliot grimaced at the though of the promise he made to Aimee. His eyes fell upon the woman in question. Her strawberry blonde hair was falling out of her ponytail and her clothes were dirty. She looked like she'd been put through the ringer, even though he was the one strapped to the chair.

"I promise," he said barely above a whisper.

"Ok, we'll work on getting you out of there," Nate returned with a promise of his own.

"Just hold on, Eliot," Sophie interjected.

"Yeah, don't die, I'd miss you," Parker said in her odd innocent way.

"We got you, man," Hardison offered his encouragement, knowing his friend was fighting every fiber of his being to hand this one over to the team, even if it seemed he didn't really have any other options.

"Aimee, take the com back," Eliot instructed. As Aimee removed the device and returned it to her own ear she noticed the renewed sense of calm settling over Eliot. What she said in Kentucky had been correct, that team was his family, and he trusted them.

"Listen to whatever Nate says," he continued, not liking the taste of those words in his mouth. He gritted his teeth to keep from lashing out over the vulnerability and lack of control the current situation bred. It had to be this way for Aimee's sake.


	8. Fear

**Promise Ch 8- Fear**

Unfortunately, Eliot's peace of mind was shattered only moments later. One of the men entered the room and grabbed Aimee from behind, one hand clutching her throat, the other arm wrapped around her ribcage. Rage bubbled inside Eliot as he watched Aimee's eyes begin to water as she fought for air.

"Let her go!" he protested, returning to thrashing against his restraints. "Don't touch her! She's not worth anything to you!" he screamed.

"Yeah, but she's worth something to you, and since we can't kill you, taking it out on her would give me sublime pleasure," The man holding Aimee sneered. Eliot pulled nearly all of his body out of the chair as he watched Aimee's body go limp. The man laughed and dropped her to the ground.

"Aimee!" Eliot yelled. She just laid there, almost lifeless. "Aimee!" he repeated. Her eyes popped open no sooner than the door shut behind the guy.

"El, calm down," she scolded at a whisper.

"What the hell?" Eliot was confused, she had just passed out.

"You told me to listen to Nate, he told me to go limp," she shrugged. Eliot's eyes narrowed.

"Don't do that again!"he warned.

"Well next time, you'll know what's going on," she grumbled.

"Aimee," his voice was stern. Aimee scowled at him and leaned back on her hands. She took a long hard look at him. His nostrils were flared and his chest was still heaving dramatically. Her mind cranked as she tried to think of a way to settle him down. She pushed up from the floor and moved behind him. She gathered his hair and began to card her fingers through it. She leaned forward and kissed his temple.

"Please, calm down, for me," she whispered against his skin. Eliot let his eyes fall closed. He was trying to center himself. He focused on his heartbeat and the feel of Aimee's fingers running through his hair. He slowly reopened his eyes.

"Aimee, stop," Eliot commanded as he noticed someone else enter the room. The guy eyes were dead set on her. "Aimee," Eliot warned tersely.

"What are you really going to do?" the man taunted.

"I will rip you limb from limb, you son of a bitch," it wasn't a warning, it was a promise.

"Did you forget you're restrained?" the man laughed as he grabbed Aimee. He threw her up against the wall. Her body collapsed into a pile of limbs.

"AIMEE!" Eliot roared. He managed to stand up, and pull the chair off the ground. He felt his restraints finally break the raw skin at his wrists. It was really only a matter of time, with the amount he was struggling against them. He let out a deep growl and fell back into a sitting position. Aimee sat up and composed herself in just enough time to receive a hard slap across the face. "Leave her alone!" Eliot protested.

"Why? You're the one who promised to be there for her, what are you sitting all the over there for?" the man grinned. A sharp stab of pain hit Eliot as his promise was thrown in his face for the third time. He got to his feet again and did his best to charge at the guy. The weight of the chair interfered with his center of balance, so one shove from the man sent Eliot toppling over. He flailed his legs to try and right himself, to no avail. The guy continued to abuse Aimee. Eliot's lack of control was quickly consuming him. It was getting harder to control his breathing. He couldn't quite catch his breath. "Aimee," he gasped. The man glanced between Eliot and Aimee. Satisfied he'd caused enough drama, he threw Aimee back to the ground and stormed out. Aimee scrambled across the floor to where Eliot was still laying sideways. He was fighting like hell to get the oxygen he needed.

"El, breathe," she whispered. He closed his eyes and continued with his shallow breaths. "Eliot Spencer, look at me," Aimee encouraged, setting her hands on his cheeks. When his eyes opened again, she nearly gasped. She saw the one thing she never thought she see in his eyes. _Fear_. "You need to breathe, large breaths," she said. She ran a hand through his hair as he took three very large shaky gulps of air. "That's better," she said with a small grin.

"Get me upright," he requested. Aimee arched an eyebrow at him. Eliot may not be very tall, but he was all muscle and with a chair attached, that was a lot of weight. "I can use my legs, you just need to move the chair," he provided, knowing what she was thinking.

Once he was sitting again, he let his head drop backwards against the chair. He was coming unglued. He didn't know how much more he could take.

"Aimee, get an ETA from Nate," he requested, grasping for any control he could muster.

"Uh, Sophie and I are almost there, Parker and Hardison are inside, it should be any minute," Nate answered quickly, having heard his hitter's request. Nate looked at Sophie in the passenger seat. She looked pale and horrified. He reached out and took her hand. "He's going to be fine," he mentioned.

"Yes, he's going to be just fine," Aimee jumped in, reassuring herself more than trying to comfort his team.

"They on there way?" Eliot wondered.

"Parker and Hardison already here," Aimee nodded.

"Good, I can take out all three of those assholes as soon as these damn restraints are undone," he growled. Aimee gave him a disapproving look.

"That is the last thing you need to do, you just need to worry about getting out of here," she chided, glancing at the door, hoping the henchmen weren't really paying attention to their conversation.

"Look at what they did to you!" he screamed, causing her to jump.

"El, I can handle it I'm a tough girl," she defended herself.

_Maybe I can't, _he thought to himself, not daring to say it out loud, he would look weaker than he already did. However, he didn't have to say it, Aimee knew him too well, and she could read the unspoken thought on his face. She schooled her features against the emotions brought on by said thought. The tension in the air crackled between them.


	9. Loose Cannon

**Promise Ch 8- Loose Cannon**

The staring contest they stumbled into fell apart as they heard the familiar voice of one Alec Hardison. He was grifting, using the same dumb accent he was so fond of during the "Ice Man Job". Whatever he was saying was distracting the three men. Both Eliot and Aimee flinched as the grate to the air vent clattered to the floor. With half a back flip, Parker entered the room. Without more than a curt nod, she went to work on Eliot's restraints, freeing the hitter. He flew out of the chair, intent on hurting something, someone.

"Easy there Sparky, you promised Nate," Parker reminded. Eliot got in the thief's face.

"Well aren't you good at reminding me of my promises," he growled. Aimee stepped between the two as they traded intimidating looks. Her hand fell to Eliot's chest.

"Let's just go, please," she pleaded. He met her eyes. The fear that sat there still shook her. She must have reacted in some form because he quickly ducked his head and stepped out of her reach.

"Let's go," he said softly to Parker. The lithe blonde peered out the door to make sure Hardison still had the men out of the room. She motioned for Aimee and Eliot to follow her. They crept through the dark building and out the nearest door. Outside, Nate and Sophie sat in the Tiburon. Sophie let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when she saw Eliot emerge from the building. Thin lines of blood ran from his wrists down his fingers and he kept his head down. Both he and Aimee slid into the backseat without a word. Parker stepped up to Nate's window.

"I'll pick up Hardison, meet you back at the office?" she planned.

"Uh, yeah," Nate agreed, knowing someone would be there. He didn't know exactly what was going to happen next.

"Take me to my apartment," Eliot grunted, still not looking up. Nate and Parker shared a look, nonverbally noting the change in plans.

During the ride, Aimee tried to reach out to Eliot many times, each time he either tensed under her touch or pushed her away. She sighed and turned to look out the window. When they got to his apartment, Eliot let everyone get out of the car before him. He was planning his "escape". He needed to retreat and lick his wounds in private; he had already been exposed enough for one day. He closed his eyes and sighed as he heard the other car, containing Parker and Hardison, roll up. They all looked at him expectantly as he moved around the car. They all just stood there, none daring to so much as utter a word, Eliot was still a loose cannon.

"Uh, thanks, for everything," he stated awkwardly, not used to the concept. He toyed with his fingers for a second, and then made brief contact with each member of the team, giving them each a sad smile. When he got to Aimee, his gaze fell again. He couldn't pull himself to meet her eyes, not with her looking at him like _that_. So he did the only other thing he could think to do, he set one hand on her cheek and he kissed her with all he had. With that, he dropped his hands and turned to walk away. Aimee's heart sank. She reached up and touched the smudge of his blood left behind on her cheek. She turned to look at Nate. At this point, he was probably the only one who knew Eliot as well as she did.

"Give him some time," Nate suggested. Aimee shook her head in objection.

"No, you didn't see him in that chair," she responded, tears in her eyes. She jogged in the direction of Eliot's building.

"Aim…" Nate started, only to be stopped by Sophie's hand on his arm.

"Let her go, whether he knows it or not, Eliot needs her," she noted, moving to get back in the car.

Aimee stared at the bloody doorknob hanging on the door to Eliot's apartment, like it was going to jump out a bite her. A crash from the other side propelled her to touch the knob and enter the apartment. She cautiously looked around. It was obvious he'd sent his fits through the wall by the door. The lamp that had been sitting by the couch was shattered in pieces on the floor. Pieces of furniture were over turned and broken. Eliot was on the warpath. A ferocious growl came from the bedroom. She moved quickly in the direction of the sound, trying not to trip over the debris all over the floor. She found him with his guitar raised above his head, clearly intent on smashing it into a million pieces. His hair was ratty and his wrists were still bleeding, now joined by nearly all of his knuckles.

"You don't want to do that," she spoke up. Her voice jarred Eliot from his rampage. He turned his head to look at her and lowered the guitar. The fear that was in his eyes was now masked with rage and exasperation.

"Why aren't you back in Kentucky?" he asked, ungracefully tossing the instrument on the bed.

"Eliot, it's only been fifteen minutes," she acknowledged.

"That would have gotten you to the airport," he commented.

"Damn it Eliot! How can you expect to me leave after what we just went through?" Aimee screamed.

"How can I expect you not to? I have not given you any reason to stick around," Eliot brushed her off. "Hell, I still couldn't keep that damn promise and I was in the same room as you," he muttered, turning away from her and towards the bathroom.

"But you tried, and that's all that matters," she tried.

"That's not good enough!" he yelled, his voice cracking in protest. He stepped back out of the bathroom. "You want to know why I never came back to Kentucky? Because I was never good enough for you, Aimee! So I went out and I tried to make something of myself and what I became I knew you would be ashamed of, so I kept it from you! That's why I didn't call or write. What was I supposed to tell you? And when I finally convinced myself to tell you, I found out you were getting married. I had lost you, but I figured you were better off. I couldn't disappoint you anymore. I guess I was wrong, I disappointed you again," his rant lost its steam in the last few lines, but the venomous edge to his tone made them just as potent. "Please, just leave me alone," he added, somewhat defeated. Aimee just stood the there, staring at the bathroom door he had shut behind him. His words had paralyzed her; she needed to process before she could construct her next move. After a deep breath, she regained her mobility and decided she would try and bring some order back to his apartment, giving them both some time.


	10. Establishing Communication

**Promise Ch 10- Establishing Communication**

As she swept up the glass from the lamp, she heard something smash up against the bathroom wall.

"Damn it," she heard Eliot grunt. She decided to investigate. She knocked softly on the door before entering the bathroom. "You still haven't left?" he sighed, looking up from his wrists. He was trying to clean his wounds and wrap them before they got infected. Aimee looked between him and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, now pouring out onto the floor. "I couldn't get it open," he admitted softly. That's when Aimee noticed his hands shaking. He was still on an adrenaline high and she was sure the spike in his blood pressure the day had caused wasn't helping him any.

"El, sit down," she instructed. Eliot eased himself on to the toilet. Aimee leaned over and grabbed the hydrogen peroxide. Unfortunately, the bottle was now empty. She held it upside down to show Eliot.

"There's more in the hall closet," he mentioned. With the amount of injuries he accrued, he kept plenty of back up first aid supplies. Aimee nodded and left the room. Eliot dropped his head in his hands. He still hadn't regained control, but at the moment he wasn't too off put by leaving it in Aimee's hands. He sat back and wished he could rake his hands through his hair, but with the amount of blood and his injuries covering his hands, he held off. Instead, he undid the buttons on his shirt and removed it carefully, leaving him in his black wife beater.

Aimee fished around in the closet until she found everything she would need to patch up, not only Eliot, but herself as well. She carried all of the stuff back to the bathroom. Eliot was no more than two feet in front of her on the toilet, but he looked a million miles away. She knelt in front of him. Wordlessly, she put some peroxide on a cotton ball and touched it to the laceration on his right wrist. Eliot hissed in pain as the liquid bubbled and fizzed against the dirt in his wounds.

"Do you want to take a shower before I wrap these?" she offered.

"Uh yeah," Eliot pulled himself back to the current conversation.

"Do you mind if I shower when you're done?" Aimee asked meekly. Eliot looked at her. He noticed the bruise creeping across her cheek and other small cuts and bumps.

"Sure," he allowed.

"I'll uh, let you shower," Aimee excused herself from the bathroom.

Eliot emerged just over ten minutes later, in nothing more than a pair of sweats and a towel around his shoulders. He looked like the shower had done him some good. He looked more tentative and less anxious.

"Wrap my wrists?" he asked softly, trying not to startle Aimee, where she was curled into the corner of the couch, one of the only pieces of furniture that was spared. She nodded and followed him back to the bathroom. The tension from their open ended discussion of their relationship both present and past hung between them. Aimee rolled the clean white gauze around the ligature marks. She winced just looking at them. The memory recall was somewhat overwhelming. She had planned to stop at his wrists, but decided it wouldn't hurt him if she went up around his hands as well, covering his busted knuckles.

"I look like I'm getting ready to put boxing gloves on," Eliot tried to joke. Aimee afforded him a soft smile.

"Too tight, too loose?' she checked. Eliot wiggled his fingers and alternated grabbing each wrist with the opposite hand.

"They're fine," he decided. "Do you need some clothes before you shower?" he offered, desperately trying to remember if he'd ever seen her with a suitcase since she'd arrived at his doorstep the previous morning. She nodded and he tossed her his favored blue t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants.

While Aimee was in the shower, she tried to muster up a response to everything he had said earlier. The world had shifted in the last twenty four hours, opening old wounds and dredging up feelings she thought she had put to rest some time ago. After what they'd just been through, she was having a hard time even fathoming the idea of walking away from him.

Eliot was on the phone when she returned to the living room. She assumed it was with Nate. It sounded as if he was getting the background information on who was following her, and what had become of the goons after they left the warehouse. Eliot murmured a thank you and set his cell phone back on the kitchen counter. It appeared he had finished what reassembly of the apartment he could with the exception of the furniture that couldn't be saved and the holes in the wall.

"You still love me," it wasn't a question. Eliot's head snapped in her direction.

"W-what?" his eyebrows about hit the roof.

"I saw it, in your eyes," she explained.

"I, I care about you, yes, but love, Aimee…" Eliot tried to piece together something coherent.

"Eliot, you were always good enough and damn it, I went to the mailbox every day and carried the phone around religiously, just hoping I'd hear from you. I just wanted to know that the man I loved was ok. The only thing the ever disappointed me was that you felt you couldn't tell me what you were up to. I would have supported you, El," she rambled, trying to fight off tears.

"I'm a thief and a hit man Aimee; you really would have been ok with that?" Eliot raised his voice just a little.

"But El, you do _good_, you help those who can't help themselves, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Aimee responded. She knew she had said the wrong thing when Eliot's whole body stiffened.

"I am not ashamed, I am proud of what I do," his growl had made a reappearance.

"Eliot," she started.

"No Aimee, I am very good at what I do, despite what happened today," he defended himself.

"I never said you weren't," Aimee was backpedaling as fast as she could. He stormed out of the room.


	11. Unsettled Life

**Promise Ch 11- Unsettled Life**

Aimee sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. She followed promptly. He was pulling his damp hair back into a ponytail. "El," she said softly, setting a hand on his shoulder blade. He spun to face her.

"Aimee, I was scared today," he admitted.

"And that's ok," she stressed.

"No it's not, I'm Eliot Spencer, I don't get scared. I can't afford that. My job is to protect the team, I can't do that if I'm scared," Eliot explained.

"El, you're only human, you need to remember that," Aimee mentioned.

"The team depends on me," he was still fighting against her.

"And today, you depended on them, that's what teams are for," she reminded.

"I didn't like putting your life in someone else's hands," Eliot said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I made you a promise a long time ago and it kills me that I couldn't keep that promise and I got a second chance and…"his voice trailed off.

"And you kept it; you got me out of there, whether it was by your hand or your team's. I needed you and you stepped up," Aimee assured him, she slid her arms around his midsection and buried her face against his neck. "I never stopped loving you, El," she mumbled. Eliot gripped her shoulders and pushed her back. She looked up at him, a small smile was playing across his lips. He leaned down and kissed her slowly.

They moved into the bedroom, sharing lazy kisses and little conversation. Aimee winced as she bumped up against him.

"Are you alright?" he rasped. He'd really done a number on his voice with all of the screaming.

"Yeah, I think I have a bruise on my shin," she mentioned, moving to lift the leg of the oversized sweats. As she expected, there was a bruise shaped similarly to Eliot's boot, from when she first entered the room and he was still blindfolded.

"Did I do that?" realization overcame Eliot as he vaguely remembered lashing out.

"It doesn't really matter," Aimee shrugged, pulling the pant leg back down.

"I'm sorry, if I did," he stated anyway. She smiled and curled back against him. There was still a lot for them to talk about, but it could wait. Aimee relished in the feel of his heart beating against her hand. It was much slower than it had been earlier in the day as with the deep rise and fall of his breaths. She had a feeling it wouldn't be long until he fell asleep.

Eliot couldn't move his arms. He was back in that chair struggling to get free. His body started to trash around. Aimee all but fell out of the bed as the man lying beside her started to flail. He was panting and grunting, clearly trapped in a bad dream. She wasn't sure how to pull him out of it without injuring herself. If she had learned anything in the last day it was that his immediate reaction was violence.

"Eliot," she called.

"Aimee?" he croaked.

"Yeah, open your eyes for me," she requested.

"Can't move my arms," he grunted.

"Yes, you can, open your eyes," she repeated. His deep blue eyes slowly fluttered open. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was in his own bed, not in that damn chair. He nearly cringed when he saw that look in Aimee's eyes again. He rolled over away from her. "El," she tried to stop him.

"Aimee, I don't know if…" he was having trouble with the idea of rekindling a relationship with her when he felt so broken in her eyes.

"Eliot, don't, we'll make it work," Aimee objected, noticing his retreat. "Take it one day at a time," she added. Eliot nodded and pulled himself into a sitting position. "You're not going to try and go back to sleep?" she wondered. Eliot squinted to see the clock.

"I was out for what three hours? That's twice as much sleep as I normally get," he shrugged. Aimee rolled her eyes. "You go back to sleep, I'll make breakfast when the sun comes up," he suggested, giving her a quick kiss. Aimee put her head in his lap and made herself comfortable.

"Night El, love you," she whispered.

"Love you too," he replied, running his fingers through her hair.

By the time the sun did come up, Eliot decided he would make omelets for breakfast. He carefully slid Aimee out of his lap and onto a pillow. He quietly moved into the kitchen and towards the fridge to gather the ingredients. He laughed to himself as he grabbed the tomato he had neglected the day Aimee showed up. Over the clatter of the pans and the running water, he didn't hear Aimee come into the room. She silently watched him for a minute. A small grin graced his features as he moved between the counter and the stove, making with breakfast with practiced precision. He looked much better than he had the night before. He didn't look so lost, he was finally getting back into his element.

"Morning darlin'" he caught her off guard yet again.

"I hate it when you do that," she huffed, coming up next to him.

"You'll learn it's very hard to sneak up on me," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a quick kiss.

"It looks like you need your bandages changed," she observed, the recognizable signs of dried blood seeping through his white gauze.

"After we eat," he decided, grabbing a full plate and leading her to a stool. He set the plate down and went to grab his own. She cut off a bite and sighed contentedly as the flavorful morsel hit her tongue. "Good?" he checked. Aimee nodded enthusiastically. Eliot smiled proudly and tucked into his own omelet. Aimee looked at him again. She smiled a little bit. She had no idea where they went from there. She was sure the road would be as long and hard as the one that got them to where they were currently, but she was suddenly glad Eliot was the type of guy to keep his promises. Before she took another bite, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. Eliot chuckled yet again. He turned to look at her, but she had already set her attention back to her food. He nibbled on his lip. Aimee had told him once that he wasn't the type to settle down. Who knows, maybe Aimee would be satisfied living an unsettled life with him?


End file.
